


The Pen and the Pitchfork

by Melancholy_Incarnate



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Art, Blasphemy, Drunkenness, Economics, Economist, F/M, Gen, Humor, Omens, Prophecy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-10 05:52:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17420297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melancholy_Incarnate/pseuds/Melancholy_Incarnate
Summary: The tale of a cynical romantic who fell in love with the Devil, cheated death with a card trick, and learned that divinity isn't manufactured, but born.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on my answer to the question "What do you most desire?" and other things I've said over the course of the last week. (I say a lot of wild, probably [definitely] blasphemous shit.)  
> "God wishes he could be this cute"  
> "I just want to discorporate into a puddle of orange juice"  
> "I've met God and he's a bottom"

"Sex on the Beach," said the dark-haired bartender sliding a drink to me. 

"Thanks," I replied as she pointed to my left. A tall man -presumably the one who had sent the "Sex on the Beach" cocktail I was so unenthusiastically sipping- was approaching my secluded spot, weaving through crowds of scantily-clad women and drunk men. I wondered if he was one of the type who'd get angry when he realized I wasn't about to be a one-night stand or one of the type who'd respect my boundaries. The former would get the bartender called on them. The latter might get a date. 

I only came to Lux to get free drinks from men hoping to get laid. I didn't pretend any different. If I liked the guy, I might be open to a relationship. It was no secret at Lux that I was waiting until marriage, but that didn't stop guys from trying to be the exception to the rule. If someone got handsy, I could just shout for Mazikeen to come to my aid. "Rapists have a special place in hell," she'd told me once. "And I'm the one who punishes them when they get there." Damned if I didn't believe her. 

So as this oddly familiar man reached my position, I was secure in my knowledge that should anything go wrong, safety was only a bartender away. 

* * *

This guy was tall. I mean  _tall._ Like, easily-reaching-the-tops-of-the-cupboards tall. I craned my neck to stare up at him, waiting for him to say something. That was when I got a clear look at his face.  _Him._

"Lucifer Morningstar," he said as introduction.

"Cool. I'm Y/n."

"Oh, Mazikeen has told me all about you," he all but purred. "Tell me, Y/n, what is it that you most desire?"

My answer was easy. I'd spent long nights wondering exactly that. And finally I'd arrived at a semblance of an answer. I wanted what humanity has strived for since time immemorial. Happiness.

"I want true, lasting happiness. Not the kind that fades, leaving despair and loneliness in its wake. The kind that you read about in fairy tales and see in movies. The kind that lasts, fills you up, makes you whole."

The proprietor of Lux stared at me for a moment before speaking.

"That is, perhaps, one of the most well-thought-out answers to that question that I have ever received." He seemed to ponder something for a few seconds and then appeared to make up his mind. "Well, darling, while I cannot offer what you seek, I can offer pleasure," Lucifer said with his most seductive stare.

"No, but thank you," I replied without a moment's pause. Mazikeen, who had been watching this encounter from the beginning, burst out laughing when she saw the surprise on Lucifer's face. He turned to her, his shocked expression tinged with something else. Maybe consternation, I thought.

"Have I lost my touch, Maze?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything!" I quickly interrupted. I know I shouldn't apologize for declining an invitation to sex, but Lucifer Morningstar just looked so... troubled? Hurt? Either way, he seemed shaken.

"It's not that I don't find you attractive; I do. I'm just- oh nevermind. Hey Mazikeen? What's the alcohol content in this?" I asked, holding up the cocktail I was still holding.

"13 percent."

"Good." And I downed the rest of the drink.

"You're just what, darling." It wasn't a question.

I floundered, searching for words. I couldn't find any. Thankfully, I was spared the necessity of formulating a coherent response, because that was when Chloe Decker stepped in to rescue me. 

"Too good for you, Lucifer. Leave it alone."

"Detective!" he answered, smile back in place. She ignored him and turned to me.

"Alright, Y/n. Let's sit over there and you can tell me what was so urgent."

* * *

The paper seemed to exude a sort of lachrymose energy as I pulled it out of the manila folder in my bag. The face of the man on the paper looked sad as he stared into a dim labyrinth of rock and dust -a sharp contrast to the expression on his face while he flirted with a woman across the room- it was clearly the same person. 

"You drew a picture of Lucifer? That's what was so important?" Chloe laughed. "You're an artist! Of course you draw people you see!"

"Look at the date," I said in a hoarse whisper.

_19 October 2015_

"I moved to L.A. in 2017, Chloe. And I only first saw him last week."

Her green eyes looked unconvinced and a touch pitying. She looked at the drawing then back to where Lucifer had been standing only moments before. He wasn't there.

"Looking for someone, Detective?" his British drawl sounded from behind us. 


	2. Chapter 2

I jumped in alarm and whirled to face Lucifer Morningstar. He was looking at us with an amused gaze, much like a cat knowing it has a mouse trapped. I had only a split second to notice this, because, unfortunately, the draft caused by my sudden movement blew the drawing onto the floor. And to my dismay -but not surprise- it floated down to land right in front of Lucifer. _Fuck._

He bent down to pick it up and was just about to hand it to me when he froze. _Double fuck_. He'd seen it. _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. I am so totally screwed_. But my inner tirade ended when Lucifer opened his mouth.

"This work is spectacular— how much do you want for it?" he asked, not taking his eyes off it. I was shocked. 

Chloe hit me in the arm.

"Congrats on a buyer, Y/n!"

"Um, what?" My brain was fuzzy and slow. I was almost convinced that Mr. Morningstar had offered to buy my drawing. But maybe my ears weren't quite working right.

"Is five hundred dollars enough?"

 _"Five hundred dollars?"_ I repeated dumbly.

"Do you want more? Six hundred? Seven-fifty?" he asked.

Finally I managed a squeak. Then words. Barely. Things had started to seem unreal and disconnected.  _No no no!_  I knew the feeling well. And I knew what would come next, no matter how I tried to stop it.  _Not now please not now!_

"Free of charge," I answered in monotone. My voice sounded hollow and distant, as if it was coming from somewhere far away. My vision narrowed and I turned back to the table, grabbing my pencil and a notebook. When the pencil touched paper, I could see nothing except what I was supposed to draw, hear nothing but my own heartbeat. Lines and shading appeared and shifted in my mind, bits and pieces, moving, changing, never quite coalescing into one cohesive image. Time was a sea and I was drowning. Hours, days, millennia passed as the picture fragments danced. And I drew. And I counted.

22,048. 22,049. 22,050. At 22,051 heartbeats, sound returned. I heard the clatter of my pencil falling to the floor. It was loud in the empty, cavernous room. I was so tired. So very tired. 

I finally noticed the man sitting opposite me when he spoke my name softly.

Lucifer.

"Can you stand, Miss Y/n?" 

I tried. Failed. 

"I thought not," he remarked. He approached me and picked me up. I was too tired to care. Too tired to realize that it was me. It felt like it wasn't my body, but someone else's and I was just watching.

"Mazikeen!" Lucifer called. "It seems your friend is a Mirror. She'll be staying here for a few days. You know how Mirrors are. Please dress her for bed."

Then the strength it took to stay awake was too much and I drifted into blissful unawareness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would try to make my chapters longer, but my little sister was in the hospital for a few days this week and as you can imagine I was rather worried. So I hope I can satisfy you with this until I next update. To make up for this tiny chapter, I plan to update on Thursday as well.

I curled deeper into the soft warmth of the blankets, unwilling to give up my hold on sleep just yet. Sleep had different plans, though- other places to go, other people to visit. So I sighed and stretched and blinked my bleary eyes. 

The darkness of the room pressed in on my eyelids like a heavy blanket. Mostly because I was completely lost under a heavy blanket.  _Oh, yeah, you're absolutely brilliant,_ a small voice in my head answered this revelation. I struggled and fought to dig my way out of my refuge-turned-prison. Poking my head out above the blankets, I wanted immediately to huddle back down into the warm cocoon. I was  _so cold._  

Bracing myself, I flipped the blanket off me and immediately regretted it. Even though the too-big pajama pants and shirt covered my hands and feet, I shivered.  _It's L.A., for fuck's sake. Why is it so damn cold?!_  

I knew as soon as I sat up that I was most certainly not in my tiny, one-bedroom apartment. This bed was too big, too soft; the room was too spacious. I wasn't worried. I just assumed I was at Chloe's house. I stood slowly, wincing at the icy floor beneath my feet. 

I flopped to the door and opened it slowly, not wanting to wake Trixie. I peeked out into the dim hallway, taking in the modern design and hard, black floor. My blood ran cold. This was  _not_ Detective Chloe Decker's house. 

"Hello?"

My voice was small and tremulous. Fearful. My throat felt drier than a PopEye's biscuit. It was getting hard to breathe. I took a tentative step out into the hallway and made my way slowly and carefully toward a faint yellow glow. 

Something touched my shoulder. It was just a gentle brush, but whatever was responsible for it was most definitely alive. I jumped away from it and bolted toward the light.

The light turned out to be a reading lamp by which Lucifer Morningstar read the Iliad. I froze, trying to decide where to go. I didn't want to get any closer to him, but I also wanted to keep distance between myself and the thing in the hallway.

My heart was beating at an insane pace, not sustainable for long. I felt like I was about to faint. I decided that I'd take my chances and sit on the couch furthest away from Lucifer rather than risk my precious skull falling on that hard, shining floor. I staggered over to the soft leather couch unsteady as a newborn deer and collapsed onto it, willing my heartbeat to slow. 

"What have I told you about frightening the guests, Maze?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to try to update on Mondays, or at least every other week. I am working on making my chapters longer, however.

**Author's Note:**

> 69 kudos. Nice.


End file.
